Dead Grandmothers and Relationships
by deepfriedcake
Summary: Her grandmother's funeral helps Lorelai to focus on someone important in her life.


The atmosphere inside the lingerie shop had been too warm and too thick with the cloying scent of gardenia air freshener. And also too copiously laced with Gran's disapproving spirit. Lorelai had barely been able to breathe in there at all. Which is _so_ not good when you're in the midst of a semi-breakdown. Air is sort of a requirement.

Lorelai took a deep breath as soon as she stepped outside the door, trying to dispel any wayward molecules still harbored inside of her lungs. She wanted nothing from the high priced boutique to stick to her.

She looked down and confirmed that her legs were still holding her up. That was very good. She realized that she was even able to walk. Yet another good thing.

Lorelai's still-functioning legs got her to the side of the building next door, where faux stones had been painted to look like they'd been quarried from a Tuscan hillside. She leaned her shoulder against the golden yellow paint, giving herself a much-needed moment to think.

She was losing it. She could actually feel her anxiety level rising with each beat of her heart. The outburst over the panties merely confirmed how tattered her nerves were. Because of her customary aversion to asking for help, she'd been putting off calling in the cavalry. But she had to face facts. She needed help. It was time to make the call.

Stuffing the small rosy bag containing the strawberry panties into her coat pocket, she walked over to a wrought iron bench facing the pretend piazza stuck into the center of the clustered shops. She collapsed on the bench and pulled out her phone at the same time. Her heart skittered while she dialed the familiar number.

"Luke's!"

Lorelai's finger pressed against the outward corner of her right eye in disappointment at hearing the cheery greeting.

"Hey, Caesar," she said, fighting to keep the tears in check. "It's Lorelai. Can you put Luke on, please?" She hoped the desperation she was feeling wasn't audible.

"Sorry, Lorelai. Luke's not here right now."

"He's not?" She almost whimpered. Her world was collapsing faster than she could deal with it.

"Nope. He'll be back later. You want him to call you?"

"No. No. Thanks, though." She closed the phone without even saying goodbye.

She sat silently and perfectly still on the bench, feeling each minute as it ticked by. This was another one of those moments, she realized. One of those times when maybe she didn't wish she was married exactly, but oh, how she wished she had a partner. Someone who would put his arm around her shoulders and give her a squeeze. Someone who would tell her that everything was going to be OK. Someone who would watch over her while she watched over everyone else. Someone who had her back as well as her heart. Someone who, for just a moment, would let her lean. Not for long. Just long enough to catch her breath. That's all she needed.

With a determined sigh Lorelai brought her pity party to an end. Sitting here feeling sorry for herself wasn't going to solve anything today. She'd crafted together the life she thought she wanted. It was just sour grapes on her part to bitch now about the other side of the independence she'd fought so hard to obtain.

Lorelai stood up resolutely and shook her hair back out of her face. She knew she was strong. She knew better than anyone just how strong. She'd do this. She'd take care of her parents and watch over her daughter and make sure that her grandmother was ushered out of this world with the proper amount of decorum.

If only she could do it without the empty ache of loneliness gnawing at her insides.

* * *

"Different shoes," Lorelai muttered to herself a few hours later. If she ever had to be in charge of a funeral day again, she'd remember to wear comfortable shoes.

The day had become a blur. After her mini-meltdown at the lingerie shop, she'd raced to the funeral home to deliver the fresh underwear, then sped back to the Gilmore home to collect the bewildered/drunken/grief-stricken members of her family. She'd hugged Rory, sprayed her mother liberally with Chanel No.5, and helped the chauffeur tug her father into the car.

They arrived at the funeral home more or less in one piece and Lorelai instantly began going through her to-do lists for the day. She double checked everything. She made sure that the doddering minister knew where he was and what he was going to do. She made sure the drivers knew where the cemetery was. She confirmed that the pallbearers had all shown up.

Then she rushed to the entry and started greeting a long line of elderly people who had come to pay last respects to _their_ Lorelai Gilmore.

A quick glance at the clock told her that there was still another 30 minutes of visitation time before the funeral service itself was scheduled to begin. Then there'd be the brief ceremony at the gravesite, and then finally the evening gathering planned at her parents' home.

Lorelai's little toe on her left foot began to throb while she contemplated what a long, long day it was going to be.

A small woman with silver hair as dazzling as the diamond brooch on her lapel tugged at Lorelai's elbow, taking her mind off of her unhappy feet. "Cousin Isabel should sit down," the petite woman confided in a worried whisper.

Lorelai looked over to where she indicated and saw gray-faced Cousin Isabel. "Oh, crap," Lorelai muttered. She grabbed one of the funeral home employees and together they dragged an easy chair behind the emotional woman and eased her down onto it.

One more crisis averted. Seeing that no one needed her immediately, Lorelai stole over to partially-obscured alcove. She pushed aside the heavy, brocaded curtain and disappeared behind it. She needed a minute. Just one minute. One minute to take stock and make sure she was ready to meet the rest of the demands of the day.

She'd only taken two or three calming breaths when she heard the curtain being drawn aside again. Instantly she felt his warmth as he stood behind her in the miniscule space.

Secure in the knowledge that he was there, she leaned back, and he naturally took over her weight. His arms closed around her, holding her in place. Her head fell back against his shoulder like a rag doll. The sensation of letting go felt so good that tears tickled her closed eyes in sheer relief.

She felt the rasp of his whiskers against her cheek as he bent his face to hers. "Can you go outside for a minute?" he murmured intimately into her ear.

"Sure," she whispered back, but she stayed still and kept her eyes closed tight. She had no desire to move from his protective arms at all. Certainly not now. Maybe not ever.

He stood her up on her feet though, and took her hand and led her out of the small alcove and down the back hall to the door that opened onto the parking lot. It wasn't hard to spot his truck in the sea of proper Lincoln Town Cars.

Luke never let go of her hand while they navigated through the rows of cars to the truck. He only dropped it when he had to open the passenger side door. Then he turned to Lorelai and matter-of-factly put his hands on her waist, lifting her up onto the seat sideways so that she sat child-like, her legs dangling down towards the asphalt.

He pulled napkins out of a bag and spread them over her lap. He opened another white paper square and tucked the point down into the neckline of her shirt. He reached again into the bag and brought out a wrapped hamburger, which he then proceeded to uncover.

"Eat," he ordered gruffly, handing it to her.

Obediently, Lorelai ate. She nodded happily as she chewed.

Luke studied her, and then with the moves of a matador, he removed his suit coat and settled it around her shoulders.

"You're not dressed for outdoors," he said, cutting off the objection he sensed coming.

She remembered to swallow before speaking. "You look nice," she told him.

He shrugged. "Same old suit."

She smiled. "But I don't see it very often."

Luke smiled too, but forlornly. "Only at funerals," he said quietly.

"I didn't expect to see it at _this_ funeral," Lorelai said, carefully taking another bite.

Luke looked perturbed. "After what you did when Louie died, you thought I wouldn't be here for you?"

"No." Lorelai had to stop talking so she wouldn't choke, and it wasn't because of the enormous mouthful of food. When she could finally speak the words came out just above a whisper. "No, I knew you'd be here."

Placated by that, Luke nodded. He reached down to the floor beside her and picked up a Thermos. He poured steaming hot coffee into the lid that served as a cup.

Lorelai held the dark brew under her nose, breathing in the aroma. "This was just what I needed, Luke. Thanks."

Luke batted away her gratitude. "I didn't put onions on the burger. Figured you wouldn't want that on your breath while you talked to people today."

Lorelai grinned. She swung her feet back and forth while she sipped the life-renewing coffee. Her little toe had stopped throbbing. "Yeah, rich old people hate onion breath."

"I'd heard that," Luke said dryly. He gestured back over his shoulder, towards the funeral home. "So how's it been? You're doing OK?"

"I'm OK," Lorelai said, because she was. Now. Now that he was here she could pretend that the meltdown over the underwear had never happened. "I never expected to have to do this all on my own, but I'm handling it."

Luke looked startled. "What do you mean, on your own?"

"Believe it or not, I'm the most stable member of my family right now," Lorelai explained, gobbling down another bite of burger. "My dad…Well, he's kind of broken. Do you remember that night we were supposed to go out to dinner, but I ended up blubbering all over you instead? Dad and Gran had a big fight that day, and that turned out to be the last time they spoke. It's sad, because Dad's been the perfect son all his life, but I think it's going to be a long time before he can forgive himself for fighting with Gran and not apologizing."

"You never know, do you?" Ill at ease, Luke looked off in the distance. "It's a shame he'll have to live with that regret." Hesitantly, seemingly thinking out loud, he continued. "Maybe someday he'll be able to realize that was only one day out of their whole lives. But it's normal, when the people you love pass on, to always look back and wish you could make some changes." He shook off his thoughts and focused on her again. "But where's your mom? Isn't this the sort of social planning stuff she eats up?"

Lorelai popped the last bite in her mouth and wiped off her lips. "Mom got thrown for a loop. She found an old letter from Gran and sort of lost it. She's not really capable right now to help any with this. She started making mojitos instead of funeral arrangements."

Luke didn't press her for any further details, but he looked even more troubled. "How's Rory?" he asked instead, little furrows of concern pulling his eyebrows together.

"She's good," Lorelai assured him, checking to make sure she didn't have any condiments staining her fingers. She quickly looked up at Luke with an apologetic smile, trying to convey that she knew what she was about to say might cause him a twinge of pain. "I think this is the first time that it's hit her that eventually parents die. She's looking at my dad and seeing his sorrow, and I think that she gets it now. Suddenly that whole 'circle of life' thing has more meaning."

She was watching him closely and she saw the moment when his own grief flashed over his face. But he dealt with it and moved on. "Yeah," he allowed with a sigh. "That never gets any easier."

Now with hamburger-powered strength, Lorelai dropped the crumpled napkins into the bag and slid her feet to the ground. "I should be getting back. I need to make sure that the oldest minister known to man hasn't wandered off again."

"Hey, I'm sorry I wasn't here before this." Luke crossed his arms over his chest and glanced back at the ivy-covered building. "I didn't want to intrude on your family's time, you know? If I'd had any idea you needed help, I would've been here." He turned worried eyes to her. "You know that, right?"

Lorelai put her hands on his shoulder. "Luke, this was perfect." She smiled gently at him. "You were here right when I needed you the most. Just like you always are. My knight in shining pickup truck."

He gave her an exasperated look that let her know he wasn't buying her extravagant praise and that made her crack an even bigger smile. She swirled his jacket off of her shoulders and maneuvered it behind him, helping him get his arms through the sleeves. She settled it over him, adjusting the seams, and then she held onto the lapels, drawing him a little closer to her. Closer was...good. Real good. The heels on her shoes that were too impractical for managing a funeral turned out to be just the right height to manage Luke Danes.

Lorelai leaned forward a fraction of an inch and let her lips fall against his. She didn't try to make it into a sexy kiss, although she did make sure she experienced every bit of the full softness of his mouth. The kiss was more like the acknowledgement a long-standing couple might share on a day like this one, a day fraught with memories and sadness. A kiss to confirm what they'd already shared during a lifetime together. A kiss to renew the promise they long ago had made to one another.

Neither of them looked away when she pulled back. Luke put a hand up to her cheek, his thumb softly stroking over the bone there.

Lorelai briefly leaned her face against his, relishing again the prickle of his whiskers, appreciating the proof that he was really here. "Thanks," she told him, her voice once again not much more than a whisper.

"Always," he replied hoarsely, with a sincerity that seemed to echo in her chest.

She pushed away from him and started doggedly towards the mortuary's exit. She didn't tempt herself by looking back.

"Send Rory out," she heard Luke call after her. "I've got a burger for her, too."

She waved her arm over her head back at him and went in through the door, confident now that she was ready to tackle anything else the day might throw at her.

* * *

The diner should have been closed up for the night, but Lorelai wasn't surprised to see that there was still a light on behind the counter. Nor was she surprised when she pressed on the handle and the door opened for her.

She wasn't even surprised when the scent of freshly-brewed coffee softly surrounded her as she walked across the floor.

"Hey," Luke said, straightening up from where he'd been waiting for her behind the counter.

"Hey back," she said, taking her usual stool.

"How'd it go?" he asked, pouring her coffee.

"Not bad." Lorelai took a moment to let her hands warm around the mug. "We all survived, and I wouldn't have bet on that this morning." She took a sip and gave out a small appreciative groan. "I buddied up with Cousin Marilyn, who's apparently been pilfering Gran's bar glasses for most of her adult life."

"Huh." Luke looked a little confused and a little vexed, like he often did after one of her comments, and Lorelai chuckled.

"She told us all sorts of great stories about Gran. Wish I would have known her better," Lorelai said wistfully. "She sounded like she was a great old broad."

"Well, there's something you can hope gets carved on your tombstone," Luke said with his habitual sarcasm.

Lorelai quickly swallowed her mouthful of coffee, then leaned forward on the stool. "Hey, you want to know something really creepy? Seeing your own name spelled out on a slab of marble."

"What?" Luke asked, once again put off balance by her comment.

Lorelai was nodding vigorously. "You know my grandmother was Lorelai Gilmore too, right? So it was essentially my name on her tombstone. Seriously creepy."

"I hadn't thought about that," Luke said, shifting around uncomfortably while that image crept into his brain. "That is disturbing."

"Yeah." Lorelai fought off a shiver before perking back up. "But at least I am now the reigning Lorelai."

Luke crossed his arms and looked down at her wryly. "Thank God you'll have something to fall back on."

"Exactly," Lorelai said with a nod.

"Did Rory go back to school?"

Lorelai shook her head. "No, she's staying home tonight; she'll head back in the morning. Lane came over," she explained, anticipating his next question. "They're gabbing like crazy. I figured I could sneak out for a coffee fix and they'd never even miss me."

"How's your dad?"

"Better. By the end of the day he seemed more like himself." Lorelai paused, thinking back on the sight of her parents with their arms around each other. "He nixed the idea of Gran's ashes permanently residing upon their mantel, looking down judgmentally upon my mother for the rest of _her_ life. So I think they're over the worst."

Luke's mouth curled up distastefully at the thought of the ashes. "Is that what had your mom all upset?"

"No." Lorelai took another swig of coffee, shaking her head again as she did so. "She was in Gran's basement a few days ago, trying to organize her papers and everything, and she found a copy of a letter Gran had written to Dad the night before their wedding, begging him to leave Mom at the altar and go back to his old girlfriend instead. " Lorelai glanced at Luke, noting his expression was alternating between horror and fascination. "She didn't take it well."

"No, I imagine she didn't."

"I mean, Mom always knew that Gran didn't approve of her, but this was the last straw. To have in your hands the proof that you weren't wanted in the family…Well, it shook Mom up pretty good. I'd never seen Emily Gilmore come undone like that."

Luke looked at her levelly. "So that left you."

"Yep." Lorelai savored another mouthful of coffee. "My dad was in his robe, holed up in the study, crying and distraught and listening to old records, and my mother was in the living room in _her_ robe, drinking, smoking, and reading trashy novels. It's been a couple of _really_ fun days."

"I wish I would have known," Luke said, rubbing at the hatband on his forehead. "I should have checked on you," he muttered, chastising himself.

"Don't worry about it. You came through today," Lorelai said lightly. But her hands gripped the coffee mug and she kept her gaze there as well.

Luke took in her body language. "You are mad at me, aren't you?" he asked in resignation.

Lorelai flashed him a smile. "No, don't be silly." She shrugged slightly. "It's just that letter my grandmother wrote. I can't get it out of my head. I think she did it on purpose."

Luke looked perplexed. "Doesn't everybody write the letters they write on purpose?"

"Of course she _wrote _it on purpose!" Lorelai rolled her eyes at him. "But I mean keeping it the way she did. And keeping it in a file where she knew that someday someone would have to dig through it and find it. And hoping that that someone would be your second-place daughter-in-law."

"You really think she did that?" Luke sounded appalled.

"I do," Lorelai said slowly. "I think she knew exactly what she was doing. My grandmother was used to getting her way. She always wanted the final word. And I think she had the patience to let her long con play out until her death, just to get her ultimate victory over my mother."

"Lorelai, that's – that's terrible!" Luke sputtered out.

"Yes, it is."

"What sort of person would think like that? I mean, that's just not normal! Who would plan out some sort of sinister plot like that?"

Lorelai caught his eye and he stopped flailing his ranting arms and looked back at her. "Me," she said, sounding ashamed but holding his gaze.

"What?" Luke started shaking his head at once. "You? No. Never."

"Oh, yes," she insisted, a bitter laugh spilling out. "That woman's blood is in me, Luke, and God help me, I understand it exactly. If somebody were to hurt Rory, look out. There's no limit to what I'd do to inflict pain on them. In fact, there are nights now when I can't sleep, and I count up the ways I could still do damage to Christopher's parents for the things they said. Or for the way they've slighted Rory and made her feel like she's worth nothing to them. I could do it, Luke. I could be just like Gran."

"But you haven't."

"But I could."

Luke leaned across the counter, unwrapped her fingers from the mug and held onto them tightly. "But you won't." His statement was made with quiet authority.

Lorelai looked down at their clasped hands, took a cleansing breath, and then met his eyes. "Probably not."

He squeezed her fingers one more time before letting go and standing up. "Just like I'm not my Uncle Louie, you're not your grandmother either, Lorelai. There's a difference between thinking up diabolical plans for revenge and actually acting on them. That's not who you are. I know you. You'd never do it."

Silence spread out around them. The single light behind the counter and the faint glow from the fluorescents still on in the kitchen didn't penetrate very far into the shadows filling the rest of the diner. Everything was very calm and still. The quiet seemed deeper than normal, maybe because in her head Lorelai could hear all of the conversations they still weren't having.

In that moment of peace Lorelai realized that if anything was ever going to be said, it was going to have to be her that said it.

"I have a boyfriend," she blurted out with no warning.

Thrown for a loop, Luke actually took a step back away from his side of the counter. "OK," he said evenly, shrugging with as much unconcern as he could muster.

"It's Jason," she added. "You know, the guy with car."

He automatically scowled, but tried to sound uncaring. "That's still going on, huh?"

"Yeah." Lorelai nervously began to shred up the napkin laid by her coffee mug, speaking quickly. "I've known Jason since we were kids. His dad and my dad were in business together, until mine got pushed out, and now – talk about revenge — Jason and my dad are business partners, mainly to shove it in his dad's face. And the only reason I started dating Jason was because I was angry with my mother. So as you can see, my grandmother's conniving spirit lives on. But here's the weird part. Even though I started dating him to spite my mother, I've kept it a secret. My parents don't even know we're together, so I guess I kind of suck at the whole revenge thing."

"You like him?" Luke asked with deliberate calmness, staring at something over her shoulder.

Lorelai nodded anxiously. "He's fun. We have fun, I mean. We understand each other. I fought against liking him, but yeah, I do."

"And you're together, right?" Luke mumbled. When Lorelai looked at him quizzically, his shoulders rose and fell and he breathed out a sigh of inevitable despair. "You're sleeping together," he restated clearly.

"Oh! Well, yeah." Even though she was normally the one who didn't get embarrassed, Lorelai felt heat spread over her cheeks. "That is, we're intimate. We don't…He doesn't…We don't actually _sleep _together."

Luke stared at her.

Flustered, Lorelai tried to explain. "He can't sleep with anybody else in the bed, so I don't…I mean, we—you know—and then…I actually_ sleep_ in the extra room."

The distaste on Luke's face would have been comical if she hadn't been so mortified. "Is he insane?" he demanded, apparently so dumbfounded at her revelation that it had shattered his normal reserve.

"No, it's just a—a quirk," Lorelai tried to explain, but when Luke looked even more grossed out she revised it. "I don't mean he's quirky or kinky or anything like that. It's just the way he is." She looked down at the counter and took a deep breath. "Can we talk about something else now?"

"Anything else," Luke agreed under his breath. He took another step back and leaned against the far counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "So he gets along with your dad, huh?"

Lorelai nodded. "Yeah, they seem to make good business partners. My dad has this encyclopedic knowledge of the insurance world and Jason can sure work the social angle. But," Lorelai added, frowning, "he couldn't handle showing up at the funeral." Her voice turned mocking. "That was just too hard for him. He doesn't _do_ funerals."

Luke shrugged again. "They are hard," he allowed.

"_You_ were there," she pointed out. "I know it was hard for you, but you were there."

"I was there for you," he explained, pointing out the obvious.

Lorelai sucked in a sharp breath as his words hit her right in her heart. She tensed up, preparing, knowing she was never going to get a better opening.

"I tried to call you," she admitted, slowing her words down, because all of these next words were going to be important for him to hear. "I was sort of…losing it, I guess, and I called here, looking for you. You were probably already on your way to Hartford. I didn't even try to call Jason. He's my boyfriend, Luke, but you're the one I called. You're the one I wanted there with me today." She'd been staring down at the pile of shredded napkin, but now she looked at him to judge his reaction. He looked like he wished he could disappear through the floor.

"Luke." She held onto the edge of the counter, forcing the words out, ignoring his unease. "Do you ever wonder…?" A coward after all, she let the words trail off.

"Wonder what?" His voice was gruff and he was shaking his head, but he couldn't completely banish the hope lighting up his face.

She shook her head too and employed his trick of looking just over his shoulder. "I have a boyfriend, and you have a wife, Luke. But yet here we are. I'm not with my boyfriend. You're not with your wife." Lorelai looked at him then, and he met her gaze, his mouth now set into a firm line. "Don't you ever wonder why that is?"

He stood very still and looked at her for a long, long time, while conflict and longing and regret played over his features. "I think," he finally started to say, but his voice choked and he had to stop and clear his throat before continuing. "I think it's because you have the wrong boyfriend, and I…I have the wrong wife."

Lorelai's eyes fluttered closed as relief flooded through her body at his admission. "What should we do about that?" she quietly asked.

Luke chewed the inside of his cheek. "I think we should fix those mistakes as soon as we can."

Worry and nerves and the burden of years spent ignoring her feelings exhaled out of her body in a huge breath. She jumped down off her stool and started to rush around the counter, heading for him. But Luke put up a hand of warning and she stopped at the corner.

"What?" She looked at him in confusion and a tiny bit of hurt.

"Look, I…" He put his hands on his hips and stared at his feet momentarily. "I know this is stupid, because everything you've ever said about how my marriage to Nicole is a farce is true, but I've got a piece of paper upstairs that says otherwise. And until I go see her and sign the divorce petition, it wouldn't be right for me to act on how I feel about you. And besides, you…have a boyfriend," he reminded her, a touch bitterly.

"Oh," she said, pouting prettily. "Yeah. That."

"Exactly," Luke sighed.

Lorelai nodded crankily, even though she understood his reticence perfectly. "But we will, right?"

"Definitely we will," he promised. "Just as soon as we can."

Lorelai leaned seductively against the counter. "I have to tell you, though, I do feel Gran's blood in me. Here I am, thinking of all the things I could do to change your mind." She looked up at him through her lashes, a devilishly beguiling smile on her lips. "Thinking of all the ways I could tempt you into the dark side."

A dry chuckle burst out of Luke and he came closer to her, dipping his head to look directly into her face. "It wouldn't take much," he admitted slyly, grinning at her.

Tentatively, Lorelai reached to touch his hand and he reached out as well, capturing hers. It was an electrifyingly sweet moment, and seemed to seal the understanding they'd just made. The seconds slipped by as their hands made a bridge between the friendship they had shared to the future potential for matching jogging suits.

"Well." Reluctantly Lorelai took her hand from his and slowly backed away. "I guess I should go home and make skinny lawyer voodoo dolls."

"There's no need of that," Luke assured her with a certain amount of irritation. "I said I'll take care of it and I will."

"I like to have contingency plans," Lorelai tried to say flippantly. But heading for the door felt all sorts of wrong. She felt shaky and uncertain, and leaving him at this moment seemed to be the stupidest move ever.

"Wait." Luke bolted out from behind the counter and she gratefully froze in place, so glad to have a reason to stay.

He put his hand on her shoulder, his fingers digging gently into her flesh. He looked like he was trying to think of something to say, but he gave up on that idea and eagerly pulled her to him, kissing her instead.

This kiss wasn't anything like the one in the parking lot. This wasn't a kiss from a couple with years of practice; a couple with years of living and loving each other. This one was thrilling and shimmering with the newness of discovery.

He wrapped his arms around her and she opened to him. His hand slid experimentally and pressed perfectly into the hollow low on her back. She gasped with pleasure and he took the kiss deeper, making her moan sweetly and lock her arms around his neck.

While trying to get closer still, Lorelai shifted her weight and Luke staggered slightly, off-balance. They broke the kiss, staring at each other.

Lorelai struggled for breath. "Oh, I'm definitely with the wrong boyfriend," she managed to say between pants.

"And I'm –" He paused, searching for the right thing to say. "Let's just say you're entitled to tell me 'I told you so' for a long time to come."

Lorelai grinned happily. "Really?"

"At least for the rest of the week." He continued to hold her close, stroking her back. "I'll find out exactly what I need to do tomorrow."

"Promise?"

He chuckled again at her skepticism. "Promise." He lightly kissed the side of her forehead, right by her hairline. "Will you still have a boyfriend tomorrow?" he teased her, sounding confident of her answer.

"Yes," she said promptly. He looked shocked and a little chagrined, and she quickly clarified, already knowing just how much she could push him. "Just not the same one I had tonight."

At that Luke hugged her tightly and then kept her close, swaying slightly. "I really am sorry about your Gran," he said softly into her ear.

"Me too," she told him, drinking up his sympathy. "But you know what? After the stories I heard about her today, she'd totally approve of this. She'd be the first one to tell me to go after what I want."

"You want me, huh?" Luke put his fingers under her chin and tipped her head back to look at her, his eyes twinkling.

"If I didn't, this whole night has been a waste," Lorelai scoffed. She hugged him back, burying her face into his comforting layers of flannel and t-shirt cotton. "And what about you? Do you want me?"

Luke stopped their swaying dance suddenly, and the already charged atmosphere pinged as even more hormone-fueled sparks fought for ignition between their leaning bodies. Lorelai held her breath, wondering if she'd lit the fuse of no return.

She felt him fight for control, his jaw tensing above her head. "Lorelai, I don't even dare answer that question." He pulled himself away from her incrementally. "But I can tell you that I'm not going to get much sleep, thinking about you. About us. About tonight."

She dove into that admission eagerly. "I could—"

He was already shaking his head. "No, you can't."

"But I could—"

"You wouldn't," he said with extra steadfastness, and that seemed to settle it. "That's one of the things I love about you," he added tenderly. She could tell it was just an afterthought, another sort of teasing, and not something he'd intended to let slip out.

For just a moment the universe stopped. The powerful word reverberated, swirled around their heads, exploded, and then the pieces showered down over them. There was no hiding from what he had just said.

Lorelai slowly put her arms back around him. She eased herself back into place, her place, which was tight up against him. "There are lots of things I love about you, Luke." She deliberately rose up on her tiptoes, stretching up to reach his mouth. She let her kiss explain to him what some of those things were.

"We'll talk more tomorrow?" she asked a few moments later. Her face was nestled against his neck, feeling his pulse beating there.

"Absolutely."

"You'll keep the door open for me?"

"Always."

Lorelai smiled and they shared another kiss, a quick one this time, before she pulled away and stepped reluctantly towards the door. "I'll be here then. I'll even wear fresh clothing for you."

"What?" Once again that familiar confused, vexed, and yet patient look settled onto Luke's face.

"It's a reigning Lorelai thing," she told him, laughing at his look. She put her hand on the door and opened it, realizing at the same time that the emptiness and loneliness she'd felt only this morning no longer had a place in her body. She looked back at Luke – her Luke now – and smiled at him. "I'll explain it all tomorrow," she pledged, and stepped out into the twinkling Stars Hollow night.


End file.
